


Written on the Page

by Andromache_42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bookstore Owner Dean, Christmas, Executive Castiel, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:20:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromache_42/pseuds/Andromache_42
Summary: Several years ago, a freak Kansas Christmas Eve snowstorm trapped Castiel in the idyllic prairie town of Holly Bough where he met charming bookstore owner Dean. Every year since, Castiel has made an excuse to spend the holidays in Holly Bough. This year, though, a once-in-a-century flood dampened the town’s Christmas spirit. Together with the town, Castiel has helped rebuild the town’s traditions and now, finally, he’ll get to show Dean the (candied) fruits of his labors.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33
Collections: Destiel LifeMark Bang





	Written on the Page

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates! Welcome to this little piece of fluff inspired by "Christmas Around the Corner", a Lifetime Christmas movie from 2018 and submitted for this year's Destiel LifeMark Bang. I want to thank the mods for such a fun, low-key challenge for the end of the craziness of 2020, and I hope that it continues many years into the future! Please enjoy, and thank you so much for reading!

Castiel woke slowly to the feeling of strong, warm arms wrapped around his chest, soft breath puffing against the back of his neck. He smiled softly to himself and stretched ever so slightly, a pleasant ache in his body reminding him of the night before. He carefully reached over to check the time on his phone. Just after eight, but they needed to be downtown soon. He turned to face his bed partner, insides turning to liquid at the sight of long lashes against freckled cheeks, Dean’s face peaceful in sleep. Castiel pressed a gentle kiss to one cheekbone, then the other, before lightly brushing his lips along Dean’s.

“Good morning, Dean,” he rumbled when Dean began to stir. Dean’s arms tightened around him, pulling Castiel’s face into his neck, but Castiel wasn’t deterred. He began kissing and nipping his way along the column of Dean’s throat, finally earning a low groan and press of hips against his own.

“Too early,” Dean protested against Castiel’s skin, but he continued to rock his morning hardness into Castiel’s almost unconsciously. A sparkle of pleasure danced through Castiel as he moved, but unfortunately they didn’t have time this morning.

“We have to get up,” Castiel said, pushing Dean back but placing a placating kiss on his lips. “It’s after eight.”

Dean groaned again, reluctantly pulling away and rolling onto his back to lay his arm over his eyes. “Tell me why we’re doing this again.”

“Because we promised,” Castiel said, pulling back the covers and standing on the cold wooden floor.

“I finally get you into bed and you’re eager to climb out again, huh?”

Castiel leaned down to chase the pout of Dean’s lower lip with his mouth. “Not eager. If it were up to me we’d be in bed all day.”

“Okay.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and escaped Dean’s clutching hands. “I’m going to shower. Coffee should be ready downstairs, if you can brave facing Rowena after last night.”

Castiel gathered his clothes for the day and watched the war on Dean’s features before he decided coffee was worth facing the formidable inn owner. He paused in the en suite bathroom door and contemplated the morning light playing across Dean’s muscular form, trying not to let the melancholy in.

If all went well tonight, there would be no reason for melancholy at all.

The tight jeans Dean wore somehow managed to make his otherwise flat ass perky and inviting, and Castiel was so distracted he almost didn’t stop Dean in time.

“Wait, Dean?” he asked. Dean turned, features soft with a happier glow than Castiel had seen in them for a long time.

“Yeah?”

Castiel smiled softly. “Merry Christmas.”

****

The festival turned out to be exactly what the little town of Holly Bough, Kansas needed. By six o’clock that evening every surface was covered in lights and tinsel, every trace of the mud left behind by the historic flood scrubbed away. Castiel watched Dean interact with every local, more convinced than ever that this was Dean’s home and nowhere else would do. Even if he would consider leaving, Castiel could never ask. Which made the conversation he'd had with Gabriel last night even more important. 

"You sure about this, baby bro?" Gabriel had asked. Castiel watched the light catch in Dean's eyes as he laughed at some joke told by general store owner and town grump Rufus while they'd browsed.

"Absolutely," he'd replied.

Now, as they wandered Main Street and the impromptu festival, Castiel contemplated his future and smiled at the locals. Ellen and Jo had their booth set up on the corner near the Roadhouse selling cider and Ellen’s classic mulled wine, and Ellen pressed two steaming mugs full of it into their hands and shooed them away before Castiel could protest.

“Big deal book store executive or not, family money is no good here,” she said, nodding at Dean who had his head thrown back in laughter at something Ash had said to Jo. Castiel blushed, but nodded.

“See you at the shop later?” Castiel asked, heart threatening to climb into his throat.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Ellen said with a wink.

Further down Main Street, Charlie was taking tickets for the artificial skating rink while blasting late 90s pop princess Christmas albums. “Hey, guys, want to skate?” she called, waving a pair of rental skates at them.

“I, uh--” Castiel stammered.

“Hell yeah! C’mon, Cas!”

Castiel let himself be dragged back behind the booth and exchanged his dress shoes for slightly ill-fitting skates. When he was finished, Dean extended a gloved hand and wiggled his fingers at him. Castiel laced his fingers with Dean’s as best he could, a desperate flutter kicking up in his stomach at the gesture.

Whatever material they used for the rink had slightly more friction than real ice, so Castiel was relieved when he realized they could really only scoot around the rink.

“You’d think you’d be good at this, Boston boy,” Dean teased, turning around and skating backward.

“That’s reductive,” Castiel said, holding his arms out to catch his balance. “What about you, country boy?”

“Field trips to the Galleria every year starting in fifth grade,” Dean said, smoothly navigating around a group of elementary school kids who were falling all over each other. Castiel had a little more trouble, so he was grateful when Dean grabbed onto his hands and tugged him in close.

“Dean . . .” Castiel murmured, glancing at Dean’s lips. They’d been dancing around each other for so long, but would he welcome a kiss here, where anyone could see?

He needn’t have worried. Dean ducked in and kissed him softly, tenderly, setting off those addictive tingles throughout Castiel’s whole body. He kept it short--they were in public, after all--but lingered a little as he pulled back. Somewhere in the background Mariah hit her high note.

“I’m going to miss this,” Dean murmured, sending Castiel crashing back to Earth.

“Dean, I--”

“C’mon, bet Bobby’s got meat ready. Can’t deny the meat man!”

Bobby had set up a barbeque near the pavilion in the downtown park square, and the intoxicating smell of roasted meat and spices drifted through the air. The central bandstand was covered in white lights and silver garland, and a few couples were dancing to jazzy Christmas classics while a few others filled the picnic tables on the grass.

“Load ‘er up, Bobby!” Dean demanded. Bobby rolled his eyes, but gave Dean a double portion of every meat selection.

Dean took off his gloves and tucked in to devour his meal, sharing a few pieces with Castiel while they watched the dancers in the square. Dean was quiet for a while before wiping his hands on a napkin and asking, “Want to dance?”

Castiel was taken aback. “You don’t dance, Dean,” he said.

Dean shrugged. “Always thought I could be a good dancer,” he said, standing and extending his bare hand to Castiel.

It was easy to slip into the comfort of Dean’s arms and the sway of the music. It was a little awkward at first, Castiel stiff in Dean’s hold, but as the music went on he relaxed. The music was slow and quiet, and Castiel was hyper aware of every eye in the square on the two of them. But, for some reason, Dean didn’t seem to care. He pressed ever closer to Castiel, hand on the small of his back through his jacket, cheeks pressed together. They’d slept together last night, but somehow this was even more intimate.

“ _ Have yourself a merry little Christmas _ ,” Dean sang along in Castiel’s ear, seemingly oblivious to the crowd around them.

“This is a sad song,” Castiel murmured. Dean hesitated.

“I know.”

“Most people don’t realize . . . it’s a song about being apart, being unsure when you’ll be able to see each other again.”

“I know, Cas.”

"Dean--"

"Can we just . . . Let's have one night, okay? Let's have this one Christmas and then later we can talk. I just want you right now, like this. Okay?"

Castiel's words caught in his throat but he managed a nod. Dean's smile was rueful before he tugged Castiel closer to rest his head on Dean's shoulder.

Castiel sighed deeply, inhaling the subtle scent of woodsy cologne and  _ Dean _ . “This makes me very happy.”

“Me, too.”

They danced in silence until the end of the song, then Dean leaned back to press another gentle, deep kiss to Castiel’s lips. When they parted, they held each other’s gaze until Castiel couldn’t stand the nerves anymore.

“I have something to show you.”

It was Castiel’s turn to take Dean’s hand and lead him down Main Street, away from the hubbub of the festival, to the end of town that had been most devastated by the flood. Dean’s hand tensed in his as he realized where they were headed.

“What are we doing here, Cas?”

“Just wait, please. Trust me.”

Dean gave him a searching look before he nodded and Castiel led them on. Just at the end of the street, on the corner that bent away toward the river that had devastated the town just months before, the little bookshop stood, windows glowing golden into the winter night.

“Cas?” Dean asked, but Castiel tugged him forward. He knew what Dean saw must be a shock, because it was even to Castiel, who had been there for most of the work.

The front facade of the store was spotless, golden timber and cheerful green paint with brass accents. Gold leaf in the window declared “Winchester Family Books est. 1956”, and behind it the lamps on the inside of the store were beckoning them inside.

“Surprise!” called a chorus of voices as Castiel pulled the door open and nudged Dean inside. Standing on the brightly lit lower level of the store were a dozen of Dean’s family and closest friends. Ellen, Jo, and Ash must’ve left their booth in the hands of one of their employees, because they were right next to the gleaming walnut checkout desk, and Bobby was right next to them, a tight grin behind his beard. Charlie, Kevin, Jack, and Claire waved from between new bookcases, full of undamaged books. On the stairs at the back leading up to the little cafe on the balcony, Sam stood with his arm around Eileen, her hands held protectively over her large pregnant belly. Half of the town, it seemed, had managed to cram themselves into Dean’s little bookshop.

“How the fuck . . .?” Dean breathed, looking around at the interior.

“It was Cas’s idea!” Charlie piped up. “But we all helped.”

“Stripped it, cleaned it, got you all new products,” Ellen said.

“Bobby did the woodwork,” Claire added.

“I had some help,” Bobby said, nodding back at her.

“Point is, it’s all good as new,” said Jo. “Now you can stop moping around the Roadhouse like it’s the end of the world.”

Dean was still gaping like a fish, green eyes lit up in the golden glow of the lamps. “This is . . . I don’t . . . Shit, Cas . . .”

“Your family wanted to help, Dean. All I did was organize.”

Dean stared for another moment before his eyes went hard and he set his mouth in a line. “And the money? Was that you?”

Castiel blushed a little. “Yes.”

Dean nodded grimly, glancing around at the crowd. “Thanks, everybody,” he said, then turned and stormed out of the shop.

“Dean, wait--!” Charlie started.

“It’s okay, I’ll get him,” Castiel said, rushing to follow Dean out into the cold. He looked up and down the street for a moment before recognizing Dean’s shadowy form moving briskly toward the river overlook. “Dean!” he shouted, but the figure didn’t stop. Castiel chased after him, finally catching up just as Dean stopped at the edge, leaning against the railing. “Dean, I can explain.”

“What is there to explain? I couldn’t pull myself out of the mess I was in, so you came in and fixed everything? I screwed up my family’s business so bad somebody else had to throw money at it? Why would you do that, Cas?”

Castiel hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. “Because it was the right thing to do.”

“Bullshit. You didn’t owe me anything. I can’t ever pay you back, you’ve gotta know that--”

“I don’t want you to pay me back.”

“Then why would you do it?”

“Because I love you!”

Dean stopped cold, eyes shining in the moonlight. “What’re you talking about, man?”

Castiel took a deep breath, let it out shakily. “The first year I was here for Christmas, I was so lost. I’d become a shell, I wasn’t myself anymore. But meeting you . . . meeting you changed me. I couldn’t resist coming back here year after year to see  _ you _ . And you belong here, Dean. I wanted to give something back to you to say thank you, and to tell you that I--that I love you. I love you, Dean.”

“Cas . . .”

“And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I understand, but I just wanted to make you happy. So, merry Christmas, Dean.”

For a moment, Castiel was afraid Dean might walk away, but then suddenly Dean’s hands were cupping his face and pressing their lips together firmly, kissing him deeply.

“I love you, too,” Dean whispered, lips inches from Castiel’s when he pulled away. “I love you, Castiel.”

Castiel couldn’t resist diving in again, wrapping his arms around Dean’s broad shoulders. They traded kisses for a long while in the dark, deep and slow and soft and quick, until Castiel’s cheeks began to sting with the cold.

“C'mon," Dean said when Castiel shivered. "Let’s go back." Castiel reached to link their hands together.

“Let me show you what we’ve done.”

The crowd hadn’t dispersed while Dean and Castiel were outside, but Sam and Eileen had come down the stairs and were waiting with Ellen and Bobby. Sam strode over and wrapped Dean in a hug as soon as the door closed behind them.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean said, patting him awkwardly on the back. “I heard we’ve got some stuff to check out?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, cuffing Dean on the shoulder before nodding at Castiel. “I’ll let Cas show you around.”

Castiel took Dean behind the register and waved Charlie over. “So, the biggest loss of revenue is your lack of foot traffic, right?” Charlie said, pulling a tablet out from a shelf under the counter.

“Sure,” Dean said. “We try to advertise to collectors and tourists, but the off season is really slow.”

“Welcome to your online store!” Charlie said, handing the table over. Dean scrolled through the website, a clean aesthetic that matched the classic design of the store, and a blurb about the history of the Winchester family. “There’s a huge 'shop-small' trend, since Amazon is the actual devil, so what we do is set up a channel so people can order contemporary new books through you and have them fulfilled by your distributor, and then if there’s anything classic, used, or rare, they can order through the up-to-date electronic inventory.”

“Who catalogued everything?” Dean asked.

“That was Jack,” Castiel answered quickly at the look from Charlie. “But uh, I helped.”

“So, Jack can run your online inventory since he knows the system, and we set you up for shipping pickup with USPS!” Charlie chirped. “Easy peasy!”

“Thanks, Charles,” Dean said, giving her a hug.

Charlie let Dean take the tablet with him to continue exploring their new online shop while Castiel led him through the new organizational system. He knew Dean was itching to get his hands on it and rearrange, so he quickly steered him to the newly remodeled cafe upstairs where Sam met them again.

“So, business has been good at the cafe,” Sam said, “and we can afford to add another employee or two, so I thought we’d start rotating in shifts here. Maybe not every day or all the time, but a weeknight/weekend morning shift so you can open up the cafe again at least part time. And all profits from this branch go to the shop.”

“You don’t have to do that, Sammy,” Dean protested.

“Hey, I’m still part owner here. It’s in my best interests, too. I’m, uh, I’m sorry I bailed before.”

Dean glanced down the stairs to where Eileen was having an animated conversation with Claire and Jack and Castiel’s heart ached at the expression on his face.

“Nah, man, I understand. You’ve got new priorities.”

“Still, you have to stay open so the next generation of Winchesters can learn the classics in the kids’ readers’ nook.”

Dean lit up and turned to Castiel. “You kept the nook?”

“Of course,” Castiel said, thanking Sam and taking Dean’s hand to lead him back down the stairs. Tucked into the back corner of the shop was a readers’ nook, complete with brand new bean bag chairs and easy-to-clean throw pillows. And there, in the corner, was Mary’s rocking chair.

“Cas . . .” Dean breathed, running a hand over the freshly restored wood. “Thank you.”

Castiel couldn’t answer around the lump in his throat, so he merely nodded.

“Hey, everybody, a toast!”

Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel and together they made their way back to the front of the store where Ellen was pouring cider into foam cups to pass around.

“Hey, watch the floor, the finish is new!” Dean shouted, and everyone laughed. Once everyone had cider in hand, Bobby lifted his cup in the air.

“To the Winchesters,” Bobby said.

“To the Winchesters!” everyone exclaimed and drank.

“Merry Christmas!” piped up Charlie.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed into Castiel’s ear before kissing him softly on the cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

****

Dean and Castiel stumbled back into Castiel’s bedroom at the inn late that night, a little tipsy from the cider and wine, fumbling with each others’ clothes just a little before they finally made it into the bed. Dean took Castiel apart with his mouth and his hands until Castiel was floating in the dark. Castiel reached over and lazily helped Dean follow before they collapsed under the covers, sweaty and sated. But the part that came after was Castiel’s favorite, wrapped around each other skin-on-skin, Dean tracing lazy patterns on Castiel’s bare back and Castiel trying to count every freckle in the dim.

Castiel tried not to think about what would happen next, what the morning might bring. He was due back in the office on Monday, and would need to travel home the next day to prepare. He didn’t want to think about how “home” didn’t describe a penthouse suite in Boston anymore.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Dean said, pulling Castiel closer. Castiel threaded his arms around Dean’s neck, holding on tightly.

“I love you,” Castiel whispered into the bend of Dean’s neck, just because he could.

“I know.”

Castiel snorted. “You’re lucky I get that one.”

They lay together in silence again, sleep just a little out of reach for either of them. Before long, though, the weight of the day caught up and Castiel found himself drifting off.

The next morning dawned bright and too soon. Castiel extricated himself from Dean’s grip again, remembering the way Dean clung to him in the night. The ball of dread in his stomach grew as he packed his suitcase, searching the room for any lost odds and ends. Dean stirred, and Castiel pondered letting him sleep, but after the night before there was no way he could just leave without saying goodbye.

Gently, he shook Dean’s hip, who woke with a start. It took him a moment to get his bearings, but then he was smiling in a lazy morning way that made Castiel’s heart clench.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean said, stretching and turning onto his back. Castiel watched the sheet fall away from his torso and looked his fill. “Want some coffee?”

“I’m leaving today.”

Dean stopped in the middle of rubbing his eyes to lean up on his elbows and look Castiel in they eye. “Are you serious?”

“I have to be in the office on Monday--”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“And I have a lot to do to prepare. I’m sorry, Dean, but--”

“No--shit!” Dean threw the covers back and got a little tangled as he tried to stand up. Castiel tried not to pay attention to Dean’s very attractive, very naked, form as he wrapped the blanket around his waist and moved toward Castiel. “You told me you love me last night.”

“So did you.”

“So, what, now you’re gonna bail? Where does that leave us?”

“It isn’t . . . Dean, I’ll call--”

“Stay.”

Castiel stopped short, looking up sharply to meet Dean’s eyes. Determined, eager, a little pleading. Castiel loved him very much.

“I didn’t think you’d want--”

“My apartment isn’t much, but you’ve got CEO money so if you want something else, I guess we could start looking. Not much in the way of real estate here in Holly Bough, but . . .” Dean took a deep breath. “Stay here. With me.”

“Do you mean it?” Castiel asked carefully, palms sweating.

“Of course I mean it, Cas. I love you. Stay.”

Castiel broke out into a huge grin. “Okay. Yes, Dean, I’ll stay.”

Their next kisses were messy and imperfect for their wide smiles, but before he knew it Castiel was ensconced back into bed with the man of his dreams and sending a quick text to his brother Gabriel in Boston that simply read:

_ I quit. _

There was a local bookshop to run, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! Go check out the rest of the Destiel cheesy holiday goodness in the collection, and I hope your 2021 is happy and bright!!


End file.
